This Bird Has Flown Quotes

“I began to relax into it. To love it. To love the caress of the notes, vibrating in my throat, the exhilaration of setting them free, letting them sail into the air. The best kind of flying—no seat belts, no turbulence, only clear blue skies.”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown

“I began to relax into it. To love it. To love the caress of the notes, vibrating in my throat, the exhilaration of setting them free, letting them sail into the air. The best kind of flying—no seat belts, no turbulence, only clear blue skies”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown

“I explained my symptoms. My dad asked how much coffee I’d had, and I said, “Don’t ask.” He prescribed listening to “Ripple” by the Grateful Dead, three times, stat. “You know what else works kid? Pick up your guitar.”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown

“if I'm lucky, words arrive to match the feeling. And best of all, and this is rare, is when I braid them together and I'm singing? And it feels almost out-of-body. As if the sound, and the song, has a life of its own, and I'm just the vessel through which it's released into the air. Like freeing a bird from her cage.”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown

“That when you find love, you must do everything in your power to hold on to it. I”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown

“What would you say to a little excursion? This weekend, or even... this afternoon?” He inched the chair closer still, capturing my bare legs between his knees. Yum. To be trapped this way, his body heat radiating through the fabric of his jeans. “Excursions are good... and I’m good, with any of those options.”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown

“Hi,” I said, feeling caught, but also swooning from the sight of his ocean-colored irises, the magnificence of a singular sturdy shoulder poking from beneath the crisp white sheet, tanned and faintly freckled, the palpable sense of the rest of his solid, simmering body so near.”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown

“Honora smiled beneficently, her softly weathered face close, and I thought of Japanese raked sand gardens, mesmerizing and lovely, though I’d only ever seen them in photographs.”
― Susanna Hoffs, This Bird Has Flown